Eight Doors Down
by Jales
Summary: A little one-shot, in which Magnus Martinsson joins SHIELD.


**A/N: This little one-shot was inspired after watching two-three episodes of "Wallander" and then later watching "Agents of SHIELD." The wheels of imagination turned and behold! this little piece was born. (This also became an opening intro for a story line on twitter.) As always, read, enjoy an comment!**

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><p><em>Here we go.<em>

The words had been a continuous echo in the young detective's head, as with a tight grip, he held onto his SIG-Sauer P6. Kurt had gone ahead, deeming as clear each room of the abandoned warehouse they carefully wandered about.  
>An anonymous tip had come in, placing their prime suspect there. Though in all truth, the younger one, Magnus, thought this to be a wild goose chase; just as all others before. But Kurt, oh he threw his usual grumblings until there was no choice but to go and investigate.<p>

"All clear." Detective Wallander indicated holstering his gun. "A waste of time."

"Well it's not like I told you." Magnus replied to the latter grumble. "Let's get out of here."

For once, Kurt agreed with him, lowly grumbling still; but agreeing nonetheless. Then again, that was his nature. One could easily assume the man was born grumbling, instead of crying as normal children do. The thought had caused the young Detective to chuckle quietly, this time opting to keep any and all comments to himself.

"Should we call it in, or do we-" Magnus Martinsson had begun approaching the car, completely unaware that Kurt was no longer following him, that is until he spoke, his head turning only to find no one. "Kurt?"

There was no answer.

Instinct took over, and long before he was aware of what he was doing, the gun in his hand had been pulled and fired, sending a bullet straight through the ashed shadow that approached him.

And another... and another... and another...

Suddenly~ It merely vanished, a does thin smoke after being blown onto by the impending wind.

"KURT!" Bellowed Magnus, frantically running around; his boots hitting hard against the gravel surface beneath them. "Kurt!" He called again, daring to venture into the warehouse, following the faint sounds of pained moans. And sure enough, he found their source. A deathly still Wallander laid upon the ground; face bloodied and cut.

Hands trembled, unsure as to how approach the battered man. "...d- don't move." Idiotic request, he thought to himself, being more than obvious that the man could not move.  
>"I'm going to call for back up."<p>

That had been his intent, however, before he could stand from the crouching position he was in, a strong tug tossed him flat on his back. Magnus grunted, confusion tried sinking in, but his eyes were wide open, even as he rolled onto his stomach before standing.

"What?!" Perplexity called out. Nephrite hues could not believe what they saw.

Kurt Wallander. On his feet. Drenched in blood. And coming after him.

"Kurt...st- stop!" Magnus coughed out, straining against the tight bloody grip around his neck. "St- stop!" The attacker did not yield, and was now easily lifting his prey off of the floor. What was happening? Why? So many doubts flourished through his slowly fading eyes.

Yet, giving up was not an option. He would not die at the hands of... whatever was attacking him!  
>Blood soaked lips parted to growl out something, before with the swing of his leg, Martinsson decked 'Kurt' below the groin, causing him loosen the death grip over the throat, thus claiming freedom.<br>Magnus scrambled to his feet, running at full speed towards the car they had arrived in. He got in and slammed the door shut. "Shit!" Magnus cursed, as the keys slipped from his hands. "C'mon! C'mon!" He grunted, finally being able to start the car.

His right foot made the dive towards the gas, when the door was violently ripped open and Magnus was tossed out. The young man groaned, lying on his back for a moment. Eyelids squinted over their orbs, fighting against the bright Sun's light...

A long shadow loomed over him, and once more blood dripping hands reached for him, save this time...

BOOM.

BOOM.

BOOM.

No hesitation. No pause.

Magnus Martinsson fired his weapon at his attacker. The echoes of the shot still rang overhead, but those were subsequently drowned in the overlapping sounds of vehicles approaching.  
>"Get the science team over now. I need thermal sweepers and set up boundaries." A man with serene authority spoke. With no further words, he held his hand out towards Magnus, pulling him to his feet.<p>

"Who..who are you?" He asked.  
>The man removed his glasses, revealing eyes that could not be read, albeit they displayed no intention to cause him harm. In fact, a small sense of security swept over him. "My name is Agent Coulson, I represent the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division or S.H.I.E.L.D."<br>"SHIELD?" Magnus asked, momentarily glancing around noting the unmistakable insignia on all the vehicles, along with the dark suits all around.

"What brings you this way, Agent Coulson?"

"That." The man pointed at the fallen man. "Did you know him?"

Magnus sighed and nodded. "He was my..."

"Was. What attacked you wasn't him. Your...partner, if I guess correctly, was long gone."

The words should have brought him comfort but they didn't...

It wasn't until four hours later that Magnus understood what had transpired. Agent Coulson spoke of things one would either read about or watch on television; specially regarding that which danced between the lines of fantasy and reality. Nevertheless, with what he had just witnessed, there was no need for fancy metaphors or explanations to convince him.

Before he knew it, Ystad was nothing more than a small blip of light down below.

Mourning had come and gone, and a new week awaited. After having considered the offer, Magnus had taken the chance on that leap of faith and agreed to give SHIELD a try. After all, Coulson had offered him the position of consultant if and when investigation surged. In the mean time, he had been instructed to meet the team he would be working with. Seeing as he had experience in the 'protection' department, he figured he would best used there, making sure SHIELD's top science researchers had someone to look after them.

"One, eight, zero..." He mumbled, walking down the hall. "One, eight, eight." The door read Foster, just as it was supposed to...

The door opened, and the opportunity of a new start was his.


End file.
